


thank you for accompanying me

by yanjun (broduce)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Fluffidy fluff fluff, M/M, because what else can i write, i love zhangjun but whats new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:44:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14800205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broduce/pseuds/yanjun
Summary: yanjun has always been there for zhangjing — from the first day of high school, to his first date, to his first interview.lin yanjun has been the one constant in every important event of his life, and zhangjing is thankful.





	thank you for accompanying me

**Author's Note:**

> based on a chinese quote that starts with "thank you for accompanying me from my school uniform to..." 
> 
> don't want to spoil the fic, so read to find out how the quote ends HEHE :^)

_Freshman year, high school_

"Are you sure I look okay?" Zhangjing asks his best friend, turning to look at Yanjun anxiously, his big eyes opened even wider than usual.

"You look fine, as I have said the other four times you've asked," Yanjun retorts, sounding annoyed yet amused.

Zhangjing bounces on his feet, glancing one last time at his reflection in the mirror before turning to Yanjun.

"Let's go?" he asks, the nervousness apparent in his voice.

Yanjun, thankfully, doesn't mention that he's been ready for the past thirty minutes, and simply nods.

"It's just the first day of school. We've gone through this at least eight times before," Yanjun points out as they shoulder their backpacks and make their way out of Zhangjing's house, with barely a shout of farewell to his mom.

Zhangjing turns to Yanjun, incredulous. "It's the first day of _high school._ That changes everything!"

Yanjun only rolls his eyes skeptically.

"Plus, not all of us can just throw on the ugly uniform and look like a model," Zhangjing mutters, shooting Yanjun an annoyed look. "Seriously, when did your legs get that long?"

Yanjun laughs off the rare compliment, shoving Zhangjing in the shoulder.

They run to the school, a mere ten minutes' walk from their houses. There's a large crowd at the front gate — there are parents giving out last reminders and gentle kisses on the forehead, as well as students huddled together in a last prayer to save their souls and their sanity ( _they could also just be huddled to look at the class list_ , Yanjun meekly supplies, which gets an annoyed look from Zhangjing).

"Where are our names?" Zhangjing mutters as he tries to push closer to the list taped to the wall.

Zhangjing can't see over the sea of people, but Yanjun can. Standing at an impressive height of 181cm, he towers over most people, but Zhangjing knows how poor his eyesight is, so before Yanjun can even tell him he can't see the list, Zhangjing is ducking under arms and weaving around bodies.

He emerges a few minutes later, wiggling out from under the crowd, his cheeks rosy from the effort.

"You're in class 9-A!" Zhangjing announces breathlessly when he reaches Yanjun.

"What about you?" Yanjun asks.

Zhangjing pauses.

"You...you didn't check your own class, did you?" Yanjun sighs, the look in his eyes both amused and incredulous.

"Oops?" Zhangjing says sheepishly, laughing as he ducks out of sight again.

As he maneuvers around people, avoiding being elbowed in the face, he wonders when Yanjun's name had become as familiar—if not more—to him as his own.

(They don't end up in the same class, and Zhangjing wonders what the obvious dim in Yanjun's eyes when he tells him means.)

 

* * *

 

 _Sophomore year_ , _hig_ _h school_

Zhangjing rummages through his closet, throwing random outfits onto the bed — where Yanjun is currently sitting cross-legged.

"I don't get the big deal," Yanjun says, and Zhangjing glances back just in time to see his best friend lean to one side to avoid getting pummeled with a sweatshirt that Zhangjing just threw. "It's just a date."

They're sophomores now — a year older, perhaps wiser (probably not), yet still as dependent on each other as ever.

"It's my first date, Yanjun," Zhangjing replies, and his hands get clammy just at the word date.

"It's just that senior...what's his name again?" Yanjun asks, and Zhangjing can hear the bed bounce, and knows without looking back that Yanjun has flopped onto his belly.

"Han Mubo," Zhangjing supplies as he goes over to join Yanjun, a heap of clothes in his arms.

"Right. Han Mubo." The name rolls off Yanjun's tongue strangely, and Zhangjing wonders if there's a sound of distaste or if that was just in his head.

"Yes — first chair cello player, angelic voice, amazing dancer, beautiful Han Mubo. So will you please help me pick an outfit?"

Zhangjing knows that Yanjun can hear the panic creeping into his voice, which is probably why the latter sighs before picking up the very first shirt Zhangjing grabbed from the closet — a red plaid.

Yanjun holds it up to Zhangjing. "This one. Casual and comfortable. Very...You Zhangjing-esque."

Zhangjing reaches for it with a sigh of relief and a smile. "Thanks. Knew I could count on you."

(There's a silent plea in Yanjun's eyes, something that looks a lot like _don't go_ , but Zhangjing ignores it, because that's crazy.)

 

* * *

 

_Junior year, high school_

"Hey, You Zhangjing," Yanjun calls out.

Zhangjing looks up from his textbook. "What?"

"Will you help me put on my suit for the junior dance?" Yanjun asks, casual as he flips his laptop closed.

They're in Yanjun's room, Yanjun sprawled on the floor while Zhangjing takes over Yanjun's desk.

Zhangjing snorts. "Put it on yourself."

He goes back to his work, his fingers fumbling as he tries to flip the page.

"Please? I just got it yesterday," Yanjun says, and there's just a hint of nervousness that makes Zhangjing look over to see Yanjun staring at him with pleading eyes. 

"...fine." Zhangjing gives in, and by Yanjun's satisfied smile, he thinks that the other already knew he would.

Yanjun leaps up from the floor, rushing to the closet. Zhangjing's eyes travel back to the open textbook in front of him, but they can't seem to focus anymore.

"I'll put on the shirt first," Yanjun tells him.

Zhangjing doesn't answer, his eyes reading over the same word he had been when Yanjun first called out his name.

A few moments later, Zhangjing hears rustles and a grunt, and he looks over his shoulder to see Yanjun standing in formal black pants with a fitted white button down shirt tucked inside that showed his lean figure.

Zhangjing's breath hitches.

Yanjun seems sheepish, bringing his hand up to rub at his neck. "Well?"

"Well, congrats, you can put on a shirt after 17 years," Zhangjing says, his voice slightly hoarse but passable in light of his joke.

"Shut up," Yanjun laughs, gesturing for Zhangjing to come over. "Help me with the tie part."

Zhangjing obeys, and if his body seems to lag just a little, he's the only one who notices.

"I can't believe you don't know how to tie a tie," Zhangjing mutters, coming to a stop right in front of Yanjun.

"Don't tell Jeffrey, he might not want to be my date if you do." Yanjun gives him that familiar cheeky smile before handing him the tie. It's black and sleek, matching with the fitted black pants, and no doubt the jacket as well.

Zhangjing steps closer as Yanjun ducks his head down slightly to accomodate for the height difference. When Zhangjing slips the tie around Yanjun's neck and starts working on tying it, he can feel Yanjun staring at him.

"Are you sure you can't go to the dance?" Yanjun murmurs, soft, and Zhangjing's fingers pause for a second.

He keeps his eyes on the tie.

"Yeah." His voice is airy, and he clears his throat. "Yeah. I have to help my dad out at the store."

Yanjun's shoulders drop a little, and Zhangjing pretends not to notice as his hands quickly form a knot.

"There. All done," Zhangjing says as he steps back, marveling at his handiwork.

"Gonna miss you there," Yanjun tells him as he slings on the jacket.

Zhangjing's voice gets caught in his throat, and he's not sure if it's the sight of Yanjun standing in front of him in full suit or the words that were said so casually.

(Yanjun shows up at the store in his formal attire the night of the dance at 10:30pm. Before Zhangjing even opens his mouth to ask, Yanjun shrugs out of his jacket, hops onto the counter, and says _it wasn't fun without you_.)

 

* * *

 

_Senior year, high school_

Zhangjing reaches down to smooth the hem of his uniform for the twelfth time in an hour.

The last time he'll wear this dreaded uniform again.

He's reaching down again when a firm hand reaches over to stop him. He looks up. Who else?

"Stop that," Yanjun murmurs, not moving his hand that is currently over Zhangjing's.

"We're graduating," Zhangjing whispers back, awed.

Yanjun rolls his eyes, but there's an unmistakable fondness in them that makes Zhangjing smile. "Shut up before the photographer yells at us."

Zhangjing heeds the advice, smiling as the photographer tells them to get ready. When the click goes off, the entire class erupts in cheers — they've done it, they're finally free from high school.

To his right, he sees Lu Dinghao dramatically fake crying, howling about never seeing them again—Zhangjing knows for a fact they're attending the same university—as Lin Chaoze stares, unimpressed. Chaoze meets Zhangjing's gaze and rolls his eyes.

Zhangjing laughs, but the sound gets caught in his throat when he meets Yanjun's twinkling eyes to his left.

"Come somewhere with me?" Yanjun asks, and Zhangjing thinks that he shouldn't have to ask to know the answer to that request.

They slip away, and as the cheers fade out, a comfortable silence envelops them. They walk through the halls side by side, and Zhangjing watches Yanjun as Yanjun watches the passing classrooms.

Yanjun stops in front of a classroom, and Zhangjing—because his focus is on Yanjun, because his focus is always on Yanjun—stops too.

"My homeroom class our first year of high school," Zhangjing realizes out loud.

Yanjun gives him a smile before opening the door and going inside. Zhangjing follows.

"Remember when I used to wait for you after class every day?" Yanjun asks, running a hand across a desk.

Zhangjing feels the tips of his lips curl up at the memory. "You were so bummed we weren't in the same class."

Yanjun laughs, the sound echoing slightly in the empty room.

"I was too," Zhangjing adds, belatedly.

He hops onto a desk — his own, in the first row, where he could peek out the window and see Yanjun come out of his own classroom down the hall and come to a halt outside Zhangjing's, without fail, every day, the entire year.

Yanjun comes over to stand in front of him. In this position, Zhangjing is the exact same height as Yanjun. He can see the little scar right under Yanjun's left eye, the mole on the tip of his nose, the nervous twitch of his mouth.

Zhangjing finds himself holding his breath as Yanjun inches forward until their noses are almost touching.

"Y—Yanjun? What are—"

"Hey, You Zhangjing?" Yanjun murmurs, and Zhangjing has to fight to keep his eyes from fluttering closed.

"Y—yeah?"

"Shut up," Yanjun tells him before he leans in a little, just enough to press their lips together gently.

Yanjun stays in that position, and Zhangjing knows Yanjun well enough to know that he's waiting for a response. His brain unfreezes and he presses back, hesitantly, tentatively, but that seems to be all Yanjun needs because the next second, he's closer, both hands planted on the desk on either side of Zhangjing as he leans into the kiss. Zhangjing's hands come up to grip Yanjun's uniform, the fabric rough and familiar in his grasp.

The kiss is soft and sweet. It's everything Zhangjing has ever imagined it to be.

Yanjun pulls away first. "I've been wanting to do that for years."

Zhangjing's laugh comes out breathless. "Me too."

They laugh together for a bit. Yanjun moves to stand on Zhangjing's left side, leaning against the desk. After a few minutes of quiet breathing and trying to calm down his racing heart, Zhangjing tugs on Yanjun's arm. When Yanjun looks at him, Zhangjing pulls him in for another chaste kiss.

When they pull away, Yanjun bumps his forehead against Zhangjing's, and they share shy smiles and breathless giggles.

(Lu Dinghao finds them like that and starts screeching about his poor maiden eyes, but Yanjun just throws a crumpled up piece of paper at him before leaning down to give Zhangjing another kiss.)

 

* * *

 

_Freshman year, university_

Zhangjing lets himself into the dorm quietly, knowing he would be greeted by silence.

He lets his backpack drop onto the floor, barely minding it attention as he takes off his shoes. He doesn't turn on any lights as he trudges straight to the bedroom, closing it with a soft click.

When he falls onto the bed, it's with a loud _oof_ and a quiet groan of pain. He lets his eyes close as he basks in the silence.

Vibrations in his pant pocket startle him out of his serenity.

"Hello?" he mumbles into the phone, not even bothering to check caller ID.

"Hey." Yanjun's deep voice rumbles in his ears and Zhangjing immediately smiles.

"Hi."

"You sound tired." Zhangjing can hear the worry and concern in Yanjun's voice, and his heart flutters.

"I'm okay. It's just been a long day of classes," Zhangjing assures Yanjun, flipping onto his side.

"Are you too tired to grab dinner with your boyfriend?" Yanjun asks, and there's a teasing lilt in his voice.

Zhangjing giggles. He knows that Yanjun knows that he would never deny food. And he wants to tell Yanjun that he would also never deny seeing Yanjun, but he figures Yanjun knows that as well, so he doesn't say it.

"Depends, is said boyfriend going to pay for dinner?" Zhangjing teases back.

Yanjun laughs, and Zhangjing presses the phone closer to his ear to hear it better.

"Be ready in ten," Yanjun tells him before hanging up.

Zhangjing grins as he gets up, all previous tiredness disappeared just like that. He quickly goes to his closet and contemplates his options.

Zhangjing knows that Yanjun doesn't care what he wears, but there's always a feeling of excitement when they go on dates and Zhangjing is able to dress in something other than the t-shirt and jeans that he wears to class every day.

He settles on an oversized pink sweatshirt and some skinny jeans. Nothing fancy, but Zhangjing likes it, and he can only hope that Yanjun has no objections either.

He waits for Yanjun with an excited heart. Funny how even though they've been dating for almost half a year now, Zhangjing still feels the same jittery butterflies every time they go out.

There's a knock on the door and Zhangjing giggles slightly before getting up to go and open it.

He's greeted by Yanjun standing in front of him with a bouquet of flowers. "For you."

Zhangjing laughs before he accepts them. He leans up to kiss Yanjun on the cheek, and when Yanjun turns his head to kiss him fully on the mouth, he doesn't resist.

"Why did you knock? It's not like you don't live here and have your own set of keys..." Zhangjing says amusedly as he turns around to put the flowers down on the kitchen counter.

Yanjun pouts from the doorway as he waits for Zhangjing. "That takes away from the fantasy."

Zhangjing laughs before he comes back to join Yanjun.

Yanjun stops him before he can step out of the door.

He looks up. "Hm?"

Yanjun's eyes are twinkling and his lips are curved up into that soft smile that Zhangjing loves. "You look handsome."

And Zhangjing rolls his eyes, because there goes Yanjun's flirtatious self again, but he can't help the flush of his cheeks at the compliment. "Shut up."

Yanjun laughs, but his hold on Zhangjing's arm doesn't cease. He leans down and kisses Zhangjing again. "I mean it."

And Zhangjing can only giggle as he takes Yanjun's fingers and laces them together with his.

(They end up just going to the ramen place down the street, but when Yanjun reaches over and wipes off some sauce off the side of Zhangjing's mouth with his thumb and a fond  _you're so messy_ , Zhangjing thinks it's one of his favorite dates.)

 

* * *

 

_Sophomore year, university_

Zhangjing watches Yanjun move around the apartment with worry in his eyes. The other seems to float weightlessly, his mind obviously not present as he makes his way from the kitchen, to the living room, to the bedroom, and back.

"Yanjun?" Zhangjing calls out, hesitantly.

Yanjun looks up, his head turning slightly to look at Zhangjing. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus, and when they do, Zhangjing sees the pain and the confusion.

"Oh baby," Zhangjing whispers as he steps close and takes Yanjun into his arms.

Yanjun doesn't say anything, letting Zhangjing hold him as he buries his face into the other's neck.

When Zhangjing pulls away to look into Yanjun's eyes again, he's relieved to find some sort of presence, however fleeting.

"I can't find my black dress shirt," Yanjun mutters.

"Want to borrow mine?" Zhangjing asks, and when Yanjun nods, takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom.

"It might be a little loose on you, but we can tuck it into your pants so it won't be obvious," Zhangjing says as he retrieves the shirt from the closet.

Yanjun nods wordlessly, shrugging out of his t-shirt on the spot. Zhangjing's eyes travel over Yanjun's bare torso, and he winces at how much weight the other has lost in the past few days.

When Yanjun slips on the dress shirt, Zhangjing steps up, adjusting the collar and then helping with the buttons, pretending not to see the way Yanjun's fingers tremble slightly.

"I've never attended a funeral before," Yanjun whispers, and there's a raw fear in his voice that makes Zhangjing looks up.

He doesn't really know what to say, so he just wraps his arms tightly around Yanjun and presses a firm kiss just below his jawline. "It'll get better."

Zhangjing thinks that, even if it doesn't, he'll be here for Yanjun.

(When Yanjun comes back later that night, Zhangjing is sitting on the couch waiting for him. Yanjun doesn't say anything, instead plastering himself onto Zhangjing. Zhangjing holds him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and pressing soft kisses on his hairline.)

 

* * *

 

_Junior year, university_

"Yanjun, I'm nervous." Zhangjing is fidgeting, still in his pajamas.

"You'll do fine, babe," Yanjun reassures him, and the term of affection squeezes Zhangjing's heart, which doesn't help much with the anxiety.

"It's my first interview, what if I completely screw up? Maybe I should just not show up." Zhangjing paces the apartment, his steps hasty and heavy.

Probably to stop him from burning a hole in their apartment floor (and to prevent their freshmen downstairs neighbors Minghao and Chengcheng from barging up here thinking they were having a party without them), Yanjun grabs Zhangjing by the shoulders and plants him in front of him so that they're facing each other.

"You Zhangjing," Yanjun says sternly.

"Y—yes?"

"You are going to wow your interviewers. You're going to do amazing, land the job, and then provide for me for the rest of our lives, you hear me?"

Zhangjing gulps. "F—for the rest of our lives?"

Yanjun frowns. "What, you're not willing?"

Zhangjing quickly shakes his head. "No, no, I didn't say that!"

Yanjun smirks, the corners of his lips turning upwards as he chuckles. "Good."

"I—I'm going to go change now," Zhangjing squeaks out, sliding past Yanjun and nearly running into the bedroom before slamming the door shut.

He leans on the closed door, bringing both hands up against his heart to feel it beating irregularly fast. Damn Lin Yanjun and his flirting. You'd think after three years of dating, Zhangjing would be used to it. He shakes the thought out of his head, focusing on the problem at hand.

He had prepared his interview suit yesterday night, so all he has to do today is slip it on. It's a gray suit, one that fit nicely if Zhangjing says so himself.

When he walks out of the room, he sees Yanjun look up from his position on the couch. There's a strange twinkle in Yanjun's eyes, as well as a radiant smile that makes Zhangjing's heart pitter-patter.

"What do you think?" Zhangjing asks, tugging on the hem of his suit jacket.

Yanjun walks over, pulling Zhangjing close without any warning. Zhangjing yelps, tumbling into Yanjun's ready arms.

"You look great," Yanjun mutters into Zhangjing's hair, and Zhangjing is glad that his face is pressed into Yanjun's neck because it's embarrassing how fast his face heats up at the words.

Yanjun pulls away for a second before he brings both hands up to cup Zhangjing's face. He leans in for a kiss, and Zhangjing obliges even though he should know that kissing Yanjun would not make the nervous pounding in his head any better.

"You'll do wonderful, because you're You Zhangjing," Yanjun whispers.

And Zhangjing is grateful—so grateful—to have Yanjun in his life, but he's not good with words, so he just presses another kiss onto Yanjun's lips, hoping that the unspoken words are heard.

(Zhangjing comes home, his feet tired from walking in dress shoes, and finds Yanjun waiting with a full table of food.  _I figured you'd be hungry_ , is what he says when Zhangjing steps into the apartment. He looks into Zhangjing's eyes seriously for a moment, before breaking into a smile.  _You did well_ , he says, and Zhangjing wonders how Yanjun can read him so easily.) 

 

* * *

 

_Senior year, university_

Zhangjing stands next to Yanjun in front of the school steps, the scene eerily similar to one from four years ago, except this time, they're in actual caps and gowns.

"We're graduating," Zhangjing whispers, and it's the same exact words he had uttered to Yanjun back in high school.

Yanjun's answering eye roll is also the same. Even Dinghao and Chaoze are the same, except this time, Dinghao's tears are real and Chaoze is crying with him.

What is different, however, is Zhangjing's hand held tightly in Yanjun's, and the soft peck on the forehead that Yanjun gives him when the crowd erupts in cheers.

"Congratulations, love," Yanjun whispers, and Zhangjing's stomach flip flops.

Instead of addressing the sudden pinkness of his cheeks, Zhangjing pokes Yanjun in the side. "How do you look good in this graduation gown? I look like a trash bag."

Yanjun laughs, one of those laughs where he throws his entire head back, and Zhangjing instinctively reaches a hand out to adjust the cap that threatens to fall off.

Yanjun catches his hand and intertwines their fingers together. He's serious when he looks into Zhangjing's eyes. "You're gorgeous, You Zhangjing."

And Zhangjing finds himself a spluttering, red mess, and Lin Yanjun, instead of helping him, only laughs more. But again, it's one of those genuine ones where he leans back and guffaws, his eyes closed and his dimples flashing, so Zhangjing finds that he can't mind too much.

"Hey, come somewhere with me." Yanjun nudges Zhangjing in the side, and Zhangjing can't help but compare the words to those said four years ago. Last time, they posed as a question; now, they come out as a certain statement — there's no way Zhangjing would ever refuse.

Instead of heading into the large and empty halls of the university, Yanjun steers him to the stadium. It's quiet there, just the rustling of leaves on the track surrounding the open field breaking the silence.

Yanjun turns to Zhangjing and smiles before pulling him onto the field and plopping down in the middle.

Zhangjing laughs, sitting down next to Yanjun. And when Yanjun lays down with his arms outstretched, Zhangjing follows, except he lays his head on Yanjun's open arm.

He doesn't protest when Yanjun pulls him closer so that they're snuggled into a tight fit.

"You Zhangjing," Yanjun says softly, and Zhangjing thinks that his name has never sounded better. "We're college graduates."

"Isn't that crazy?" Zhangjing murmurs, stretching out a hand upward toward the sky as he squints at the sun.

Yanjun doesn't reply, also stretching out a hand up to hook their pinkies together in the air, and just as Zhangjing is marveling at how their fingers sparkle in the sunlight, Yanjun laces them together and brings them down to rest on his chest.

"Hey, You Zhangjing," Yanjun calls, and Zhangjing hears a slight tremor of nervousness, but also some excitement.

"Yeah?"

"...Marry me."

Zhangjing almost bolts up. "Wh—what?"

"Not now," Yanjun quickly says, and Zhangjing sees the flush of color rising on his cheeks, but also the determination in his eyes as he looks up into the sky. "But someday. Marry me."

Zhangjing is quiet for a minute as he observes Yanjun. The long lashes he's always been envious of, the perfectly angled nose, the lips whose shape Zhangjing has long committed to memory, the sharp jawline — everything so familiar, nothing foreign.

"Yes." Zhangjing breathes it out, and he sees Yanjun's head whip over to him.

"Yes," he repeats, just for good measure.

Yanjun is staring at him now, those familiar brown eyes boring into his with an intensity that should make Zhangjing uncomfortable, but which only makes him reach out and cup Yanjun's cheek with his hand.

"Why do you look so shocked?" Zhangjing mutters amusedly, his mouth twitching up at the sight of Yanjun's wide eyes.

"I just—I didn't expect you to agree so easily," Yanjun admits, still looking at Zhangjing with a slightly dumbfounded expression.

Zhangjing laughs, loud and clear. He sees Yanjun smile at that, so he jumps on him, tackling him until they're both on the ground.

"You doofus, of course I'm going to marry you," Zhangjing says, peppering kisses on Yanjun's face as Yanjun laughs and tries to duck. "Who else would I marry?"

And at those words, Yanjun envelops Zhangjing into his arms so tightly that Zhangjing yelps, not able to move anymore. "Yanjun! Let me go."

Yanjun shakes his head, tilting his head down a little to look at Zhangjing in the face. His eyes are dancing, and his mouth curved up into that beautiful smile that Zhangjing has memorized.

"You Zhangjing, you can't go back on your word now. You promised you're going to marry me," Yanjun tells him, his face so close that Zhangjing almost has to go cross-eyed to see him.

Zhangjing laughs and nods, and Yanjun grins before pulling Zhangjing up a little to kiss him full on the lips.

"I love you," Yanjun mumbles against his lips.

And Zhangjing has heard those three little words so many times before, yet they still bring about a familiar flush of the cheeks and a quickened heartbeat.

"Love you too," he replies easily, automatically.

(When Yanjun pulls him into his arms again, Zhangjing thinks that loving Yanjun has always been like that — easy, automatic.)

 

* * *

 

_Years later_

The suit fits Zhangjing well — as it should, since it had been tailor made months in advance. But he still can't help tugging on the collar and at his sleeves, as if it were uncomfortable, as if he hadn't worn a suit every single day of his life for the past few years. This suit, however, this one was different.

"Stop tugging, you're going to tear the suit in half before we actually get married," a familiar amused voice calls out, and Zhangjing whips around.

Yanjun looks beautiful, as always. But seeing him standing there in full wedding attire, not a hair out of place, looking like the prince charming he is, makes Zhangjing more nervous than he would like to admit.

He laughs nervously. "Isn't there a saying how you shouldn't see the other person before the wedding?"

 _Married. Wedding._ Zhangjing's stomach turns to knots just at the words.

"Couldn't wait longer," Yanjun says, shrugging, as he comes closer.

He's looking at Zhangjing like he's made of precious diamonds, and usually, the sight would make Zhangjing melt. Today, however, it makes his heart speed up and his palms sweat for a completely different reason.

"Hey," Yanjun calls softly, leaning down to peck Zhangjing quickly on the lips. "You're beautiful."

Zhangjing squirms slightly, flushing at the words.

"What, getting cold feet?" Yanjun asks, no doubt noticing Zhangjing's jitters.

Zhangjing's head snaps up sharply. "What? No! Never."

And Yanjun's eyes have that playful glint in them, and Zhangjing knows that he's teasing, but he has to let Yanjun know that there is no doubt on his end — that there's no second guessing.

"I love you," Zhangjing says, grasping Yanjun's cold hands in his own sweaty ones.

Yanjun's lip twitches up. "I know that."

When Zhangjing whines, Yanjun laughs. "I love you too."

Dinghao runs into the room, making both Zhangjing and Yanjun jump. He's screaming about Yanjun being in the room, and just as he's about to jab a finger into Yanjun's chest in his heated monologue, the door opens again and Chaoze appears. It takes less than a second for him to grasp the situation and then he's dragging a still shouting Dinghao out of the room.

Yanjun is laughing, not at all bothered by their friends' antics anymore. Zhangjing watches, and he's not surprised to find nothing but love in his heart.

Yanjun turns to him, still laughing. "I guess I should get going before Dinghao throws a fit and we have to cancel this whole thing."

Zhangjing nods, but just as Yanjun is turning around to leave, catches his arm.

Yanjun turns to look at him, and Zhangjing wants to pause time — wants to tell Yanjun to only ever look at him.

Instead, he smiles. "Hey, Lin Yanjun?"

Yanjun is smiling too now. It's the smile where his eyes crinkle up at the corners and his upper lip nearly disappears; the smile where his dimples pop out and stay out; the smile that Zhangjing thinks lights up the entire room and that he knows is reserved for him. It's the smile that Zhangjing has seen every day — the smile that he thinks he's loved almost all of his life.

He leans up and places a gentle kiss on Yanjun's cheek. "Thank you for accompanying me from my school uniform to my wedding suit." 

**Author's Note:**

> the full quote is "谢谢你陪我从校服到礼服" which translates into "thank you for accompanying me from my school uniform to my wedding attire" 
> 
> so this was supposed to be zhangjun through the years — 4 in high school, 4 in university, and then finally the wedding. and it was supposed to be, like, important events(?) where specific outfits kinda play a role. sorry if that wasn't very clear ahaha i kind of just gave up and started writing zhangjun fluff in the middle alskdfj 
> 
> as always, thank you for reading and i would love to know your thoughts on this! feel free to find me on twitter as well: [y4njun](https://twitter.com/y4njun)


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